Fury, Rise and Trial: A Story of an Angel
by Vroon
Summary: First Fanfic, the epic tale of a legendary Space Marine of the Blood Angels.
1. Chapter 1: The Burning Tomb

**Chapter One: The Burning Tomb**

Trapped. The superhuman warrior found himself trapped under the remains of what used to be a large stone building. He could not seem to recall what the building he was fighting in was prior to its demise. In fact, at that moment he could not even remember what planet or system he had been fighting on. He was not able to perceive when he was falling in and out of consciousness anymore, despite the nature of his superhuman physiology, all of that was now a blur. His Larraman Cells were no longer finding enough fibrinogen to bond to, his bleeding was not slowing fast enough. None of it mattered to him, however. All he felt was a simple, yet intense impulse: the burning desire to spill the blood of those who opposed him. To rend them limb from limb and feel the hot fluid that brought them life flow across the ground he stood upon.

The reality of the situation was grim for the warrior. He was floating just above the embrace of death. His once robust armor had cracked and split when the stone slabs forming his makeshift tomb found the points of failure of the mighty suit he wore. His body was broken and failing from the nearly endless fighting. Had the fighting lasted for hours? Or days? Or months? Time had become irrelevant, as the insanity of the blood lust was too much for even his hardened mind to resist. Feelings of pain had vanished from his body not long before this battle had begun. Fear was something that had been alien to him for a very long time now. This of course, was expected, he was one of the finest warriors that could be considered human (though truly, he was now considered something beyond human). And so he laid there, trapped within the rubble, free of pain and fear as the last few life support systems in his armor started to fail, the end was coming for him in his unfortunate tomb. His mind on the other hand, was anything but free. The blood lust drove him to insanity, and being unable to bring his wrath upon his foes made an unfathomable rage manifest itself within his mind and soul. He would die meaninglessly despite the burning rage and resolve in him, and became even angrier as the darkness came for him.

But it had not always been like this.

* * *

><p>"How long until our arrival?" asked a large man clad in golden armor. The lights of the bridge bounced off his magnificent exterior, and combined with the extremely ornate patterns that adorned the suit made him appear inhuman, as if he were the incarnation of a god.<p>

"Approximately 90 minutes, Commander" answered a serf attending to one of the many cogitators flashing on the bridge of the vessel.

The bridge was more decorated than any of the other part of the ship, save the holy chapel. A large mural depicting battles fought over the last millennia, some of the greatest fought over ten millenia ago, adorned the high ceilings of the bridge. In the black marble pillars that reached the ceiling of bridge were carved the thousands of names of those that had died while serving from the ancient ship. The golden trim around nearly everything visible made the command center of the vessel appear surreal. Nearly one hundred serfs attended to the cogitators and other machines around the bridge, though all aboard the ship knew there must have been many times that number aboard the ship. This was of course necessary, considering the huge undertaking that was required to keep the ships deadly passengers working at the ruthless efficiency they were infamous for. The vessel in itself, was a marvel. It was several thousand years old, a gift from the shipyards of Mars in return for the great deeds the present owners had accomplished for the Adeptus Mechanicus. It must have taken at least a century to construct such a masterpiece, a technological and aesthetic wonder becoming ever rarer in the galaxy as the centuries passed. While the beauty of the bridge and chapel were awe inspiring, perhaps it was the exterior of the ship that was the most amazing. The hull was painted the same crimson that many of the ship's inhabitants wore, including the superhuman warriors that it was currently transporting. The rear of the ship was a roughly rectangular, and capped with a large cathedral like structure. Formed by large spires and numerous communication and targeting arrays, the golden trimmed cathedral was testament to the ferocity of the servants of the emperor. The nose of the mighty vessel was formed by a long rectangular section lined with landing bays and other deployment outlets. The front tip of the battleship was formed by a sloping curve, resembling the famous retribution class battleships of the Imperial Navy. Extending from the prow of the ship were four very long tubes, though they were only one section (albeit a very powerful one) of the ship's massive arsenal. The number of weapon batteries deposited around the outer layers of the ship was almost as staggering as the seven kilometer length of the vessel. The ship packed enough firepower to down a naval force comprised of several similarly sized cruisers and level entire hive cities. It's massive void shields and extremely heavy armor allowed it to take huge amounts of punishment to push past planetary defenses and unleash its awesome assault. Despite the destruction that the ship could bring, by far, the most terrifying aspects of the massive vessel were located near the rear of the ship, they were not weapons or armor, but the name of the ship, and the symbol that it bore, signifying who or what its cargo was, and moreso, a harbinger of death.

Currently, those aboard the vessel could see a small blue and green orb suspended in the void, its surface obscured by the huge clouds of smog produced by what could only be sprawling grey-brown cities that covered some of the green land masses. In 90 minutes however, the orb would be quite easily identified as being a hive world, bearing a certain resemblance to Holy Terra. However, while Terra had numerous satellites and defensive outposts in orbit high above its surface, this planet had nearly none left, those that remained were either being boarded or destroyed by the enemy now. The skies however, were far from empty. From the planets surface, one could look up and see asteroid-like bodies in orbit, and even some falling into the planet. Accompanying the "roks" as the enemy called them were old, lost ships, some of them even bound to others, known to the Imperium as space hulks. Anything could occupy the remains of an abandoned vessel, but whatever was aboard, it usually was not welcoming to the servants of the Emperor. The inhabitants of space hulks ranged anywhere from servants of the Dark Gods to Tyranids, leaving the boarding of a space hulk to be largely unpredictable and dangerous. In this case, it was Orks. Foul greenskin beasts had used the space hulks to travel across the stars to reach this world, looking to loot and plunder for weapons and anything else their primitive culture deemed valuable. In truth, they may have just been looking for what they called a good fight, which basically meant assembling as many Orks as possible, and crashing onto a single world, starting a war. In this case, it was a full scale "WAAAGH!", and one of the largest ones ever assembled in the galaxy. The problem was, they had chosen a world inhabited by untold billions of humans. The Orks could not be allowed victory on the world of Armageddon.

Fortunately for the human populations inhabiting this world, their calls for aid had been answered, although the orks had already made planet fall. The letters on the side of the ship were written in golden script, which contrasted with the crimson hull, making the ship appear as a burning lance. The name spelled out by the letters was _Europae_, and the symbol it bore was a bright red droplet shape cast over a pair of white, gleaming, angelic wings. The cargo of the Battle Barge _Europae _would be one of the deadliest ones the Orks would ever know, for once the Battle Barge entered Armageddon's atmosphere, it would deploy the greatest warriors man has ever known, those of the Emperor's holy Adeptus Astartes. These angels of death were the Blood Angels, one of the First Founding and most honorable chapters among the Space Marines. Doom would be delivered to the Orks by the Blood Angels via Thunderhawk and drop pod. Death would be cast unto them by the holy bolter and chainsword. To the further dismay, or possibly pleasure, of the greenskins, the _Europae_ was not alone. A few hundred kilometers away was _Europae_'s sister ship, the Battle Barge _Blade of Vengeance_, a similarly ancient vessel, though slightly different in overall appearance, sped towards the despairing planet. In front of the two large barges were the Chapter's four strike cruisers close enough to the Armageddon system to respond to the Ork incursion, and several of the rapid strike vessels in service to the Sons of Sanguinius. The Blood Angels had come in force, deploying eight of its companies, along with the Ultramarines and Salamanders chapters, to make sure that Armageddon would not stand alone against the green tide. Such a large deployment of Space Marines could only mean one thing: By the Emperor, Armageddon would not fall.

The golden warrior standing at the command lectern was somewhat troubled by the response of the crewman. "Ninety minutes...How many more innocents must die before my brothers and I bring them salvation?" Focusing on the situation at hand, the golden warrior turned towards another large man, this one clad in the recognizable crimson armor of his brothers.

"Captain Aphael, tell your Sergeants to make sure their squads have all their wargear prepared, this battle is not likely to be over quickly."

"Yes, My Lord", the captain of the Second Company moved to exit bridge, towards the deployment bays where he knew his company would already be. The Second Company was to be sent to take back the Hades Hive from its greenskin assailants. Accompanying the Second Company aboard the _Europae_ was the chapter's legendary First Company, composed of the chapters most elite brothers, trained in the use of Tactical Dreadnought Armor. The Terminators were already perparing to be deployed as boarding parties to destroy the remaining Ork roks and space hulks, to prevent more Orks from making planetfall. Their thicker, more resilient armor made them more capable of boarding and destroying a space hulk, as they could easily tear through the walls to cripple the ork vessels quickly. However, it limited their overall speed, making them unfit to clear half of a hive city. For this type of role, the Second Company was perfect. Masters of lightning assault, the Marines of the Second Company would be able to reinforce their brothers fairly quickly, wherever the Ork resistance was thickest.

"Commander, what of our brothers that have succumbed to The Flaw?" Asked another armored giant. This one carried a large axe, and wore a jump pack adorned with large angellic wings attached to his back, as well as a relic suit of Artificer Armor. He also bore a rosarius, a symbol of his position as a Chaplain.

"Please, old friend, Dante will suffice. As for our less fortunate brothers, give them the proper words so they may find an honorable death. They will remain aboard the _Europa_e until the second company finds where the commander of the Ork resistance is, and then sent to their final battle via drop pod. The Second Company will not be properly deployed to lay siege to a fortified Ork encampment." Though they had lost their sanity, they had been imbued with a fraction of the Primarch's own power, they were more capable than the First Company when it came to destroying their opponents in melee combat. The truth was that the Death Company would not likely find their honorable death fighting lesser enemies, being invigorated with the strength of the Primarch left only the strongest enemies as worthy opponents. If they were not killed by the enemy, then the Grim One would have to perform his sad, but sacred duty. Dante always hated the thought of having to send his own men to execute their lost brothers, in his mind, it was the worst way to die. "May the Emperor protect their souls, and embrace them as loyal subjects to the end." thought the Chapter Master.

"Very well, I shall perform the Rites of Salvation, and try to keep them from any more visions of our Father's final moments. But, I bear grim news as well Dante" said the Chaplain.

"Speak, Astorath" , replied the commander.

"One more of our brothers has succumbed to The Flaw, and I believe him to finally be lost" said the High Chaplain, a hint of sadness in his voice.

The remaining Space Marines aboard the bridge of the _Europae_ hung their heads in respect and prayed to the Emperor for their brother's guidance. Every Blood Angel understood the terror of The Flaw, yet held the highest respect for their battle-brothers that had fallen victim to it, for one day, the same fate would be their own.

Dante simply looked at the Chaplain with a heavy heart, every brother lost to The Flaw felt as painful as losing his first brother when he was just a Sergeant, even after 1100 years of being the Chapter Master. "Tell me brother, who is it?"

"Lexicanium Calistarius, he has fallen victim to the Red Thirst" replied Astorath.

Dante knew he would lose another exceptional brother that day. Though he was not a high ranking Librarian, Calistarius was a shining example of valor in the chapter. Though he was slightly alienated by some of his brothers due to his mutation as a psyker, he showed extreme strength of character as well as a martial prowess only rivaled by the most elite brothers of the First Company. He had already earned the Crux Terminatus for his deeds long ago, and was one of the only marines to return from the boarding from the Space Hulk _Sin of __Damnation_. He had been a knowledgeable brother as well, understanding nuances of science and the warp far more than some of the Techpriests of Mars. Of course he used these skills to his advantage, and as such was able to move through time and space much more fluidly than majority of his brothers. As a librarian, he was never a part of one specific company, but went wherever the Chapter Council thought he was needed. He had even served as a part of Dante's Honor Guard once, when the Chapter Master himself fought to destroy the horrors of chaos. Calistarius had always showed the strongest character among his brothers, never yielding to anyone but Dante himself. Due to this character, he was an unwavering servant of the Emperor. Losing this brother would not be the greatest of blows, but one that Dante knew at least he would feel himself. With a sigh, he instructed the Chaplain, "Very well then, repaint his armor and place him into the ranks of the Death Company, may he bring glory in his final moments to the Chapter."

"As you wish my lord"

After a moment to reevaluate the tactical ramifications of the Librarian's transference into the Death Company, the golden armored Astartes walked towards the front of the command dais so that all on the bridge could see him. Turning to the remaining Space Marines on the bridge, his jaw visibly tightened and he started to speak again,"Brothers, today we go to the world of Armageddon. The Orks seek to extinguish the Emperor's light from this planet, and take it as one of their own worlds. As sworn protectors of the Imperium and the manifestation of His Will, we cannot allow this. Along with our brothers of the noble Salamanders and Ultramarines, we will rid this world of the Green Plague!" Suddenly, the familiar fire returned to Dante's voice and stature, as the hearts of all that could see or hear him swelled with pride. To marine and serf alike the Chapter Master seemed to radiate courage and honor, as 1100 years of experience and valor were now apparent to those in his presence. Lord Commander Cervan Dante shone as a bright beacon of hope for the Imperium right in front of them. It was this man that cleaved the mighty Skarbrand in half at the Gates of Pandemonium, this voice that led the Blood Angels to their many glories over the past millennium. It was the sheer existence of such a man that would inspire the defenders of the beleaguered Armageddon to rise above the many horrors of the galaxy. He thrust the Axe Mortalis in the air and called out to all aboard the Blood Angels fleet, "In the name of mankind, we will purge the alien! All Blood Angels personnel, prepare for battle!" All the men and women Dante could see were on their feet, inspired by one of the most venerated humans in the Imperium. Missile batteries across the ship began to be loaded and laser batteries charged. The Blood Angels would not leave without victory,"For those who cannot be redeemed! For the Primarch! For the Emperor!"

In unison, Blood Angel and human alike responded to his call,"For Sanguinius! For the Emperor!"

Despite the roaring cheers across the Battle Barge, Dante could not rid thoughts of Calistarius from his mind. He had a feeling something was not quite normal about the Librarian's succumbing, though only time would tell what it was.

* * *

><p>Authors note: This is my first fanfic ever, so don't expect this to be great by any means. In fact, you should probably expect the opposite.<br>What I know so far: Slow start, I intend on making things pick up faster in later chapters. It's probably confusing, as it establishes another character much more, before establishing the main character very much at all.  
>I'm thinking of having the next chapter be told from the perspective of the main character (the one introduced first). And describe a less lengthy flashback from the time before he was trapped, and then go back to him being trapped, and finally continue his story. I know it sounds kind of weirdnonsensical, but I'm still trying to figure out how to take this story.  
>What I would really appreciate: Reviews, anything, if you think it's awful, go ahead and say so, just tell me why you think that please. Or say that you like the stupid paragraph formatting, I don't mind! I don't know what I'm doing yet, so any constructive criticism will be so helpful!<p>

TL;DR  
>Reviews please!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2: The Entombment

**Chapter 2: The Entombment**

As he surveyed the space around him, Chaplain Lemartes could not help but feel a small amount of joy. Several large, rose bud shaped were arranged in the _Europae'_s drop pod bays, approximately half of them surrounded by the Space Marine squads of the Blood Angel's Second Company, and a few of the Chapter's legendary Dreadnoughts. Lemartes's hearts began to pound slightly faster; his natural battle lust as a Blood Angel was intensified, despite his ability to control it, the Black Rage. The Flaw had come for him many years ago, but through sheer force of will, Lemartes had managed to channel the Black Rage into his duties as a Chaplain, instead of being driven mad by it.

In the center of the room stood the venerable Captain Aphael, dressed fully in a fine suit of Artificer Armor, except for his helmet, which was hanging from his belt. Centuries of service were physically visible on the veteran's face, his position as a captain was not without merit. He he lifted his hand and gazed around the room, and without even saying a word, all of the crimson-armored Astartes had had their eyes fixed upon him.

"Blood Angels of the Second Company, prepare to Deep Strike behind enemy lines! For Sangunius and the Emperor!" ordered the captain.

The marine squads and Dreadnoughts moved quickly into their drop pods, and their adamantine casings sealed around them. Dante had already taken the chapter Honor Guard and Sternguard veterans to board one of the Space Hulks the Ork's inhabited, while Captain Karlaen took the rest of the First Company marines onto the other. When the Second Company began their assault drop, the _Europae_ would have _almost_ all of its Astartes forces into the battles of the Second War for Armageddon.

Not two minutes later, the belts on the ground started to move, shifting drop pods full of the Emperor's Finest to the launching stations. The wrath of the Blood Angels began raining down on their enemies planetside.

* * *

><p>Thinking back to just before the drop began, Lemartes noted the arrangement of crimson and gold drop pods around him looked nearly perfect, except for one spot. That was about 25 minutes ago. Now, next to him was one more drop pod, one painted in a scheme he knew all too well. Unlike the rest of them, this pod was painted in the same jet black color of Lemartes's armor, though for a much different reason. While the Codex Astartes declared that the armor of the Chaplain was to be black, signifying his position in the Chapter, it said nothing about the ominous formation inside the black drop pod. Lemartes looked inside the drop pod and felt a strange, yet familiar combination of pity and pride.<p>

Three men already sat in the drop pod. Three men that would fight their last battle today. Three men that would not be stopped by anything, other than death. Their once colored armor now painted a gleaming black like the drop pod they were latched into. The only identifying marks on them were the red "X" shapes on their shoulder armor, and the golden-winged drop of blood that adorned their chest. They were the epitome of the Chapter's fury, and yet they were lost in the confines of their own minds. They were the Death Company, and when the Blood Angels' ground forces had found the pinnacle of the battle, Lemartes, Guardian of the Lost, would lead them to glory.

They sat restrained, for the safety of those around them, but could still be seen seizing and convulsing. Under their armor they screamed about traitors and heretics, as the Black Rage made them see visions from the eyes of Sanguinius aboard the _Vengeful Spirit_ moments before his death, though such events had transpired over 10,000 years ago. All three men sat with their heads hung, as if lost in deep thought.

As Lemartes eyes panned across the group, he noticed the man sitting on the end of the group was doing nothing of the sort, instead he appeared to be shivering. He wore no helmet, but instead a hood that left his face exposed, with many tubes and wires running from the back of his skull to the hood. Studying the last Astartes closer, Lemartes realized his mouth was watering, as if he was craving something.

After his many years of training, Lemartes was quick to recognize the effects of the Red Thirst. While the Black Rage drove its victims outwardly insane and violent, the Red Thirst simply induced an insatiable blood lust in its victims, causing them to attack of their allies if left unchecked. While his thoughts and words could be coherent (unlike his brothers), his mind was constantly putting him in a state of withdrawal, rendering him tactically unreliable. The Death Company was the sad fate of these men.

The honorable Chaplain began to speak, "Brother Tiberius, Brother Luther", with just the mention of their names, the two marines afflicted by the Black Rage suddenly fell silent, and became calm. Such was the respect and power commanded by the voice of Lemartes, it was why he was the warden of the Death Company.

"Brother Calistarius" he continued.

The third marine did not respond.

Again he called, "Brother Calistarius"

The last man remained the same. This was unheard of, Lemartes's voice had never failed him before in rallying the Death Company, and for it to be Calistarius ignoring him was even more unsettling. The Chaplain had spoken to him many times. As a Librarian he had worked closely with the Chaplains of the chapter to evaluate the neophytes on Baal. For Calistarius not to recognize one of the most senior and venerable members of the chapter could only reflect extreme psychological strain. To be handling it with such a small outward display showed the magnitude of Calistarius's strength of character.

The Chaplain began to walk towards the distracted Librarian, his heavy boots clanking across the floor of the drop pod. Slowly, Lemartes extended his arm towards the Librarian's shoulder.

"Do you hear my voice? Brother C-"

* * *

><p>It was as if some unknown force was covering everything in it. His hands, the ground, the men next to him, yet he needed more. The blood lust was claiming more of his mind and soul. In his mouth he could feel his canines longing, aching for the salty taste of it. He had tried to control it for all those years by busying himself with the Chapter's long history and research of the physical sciences and warp, but he was quickly slipping. He still had some modicum of control, but it he did not know how much longer it could last. Both of his hearts were beating at twice their normal rate, his control over his psychic powers was strained beyond its normal limits. He felt as if he and the world around him would soon light aflame and then burn to-<p>

"Calistarius" he heard, at the same time feeling a new pressure on his shoulder. Faster than even a blink, Calistarius had snapped out of his hellish trance.

All at once came a small gust of wind and a drop in air temperature emanating from the Librarian's body. The displacement of air had lightly tossed Calistarius's long black hair loosely out from behind his head, leaving spilled up his shoulders now. Perhaps the most unsettling part of the split second was the new pair of eyes Lemartes found fixed upon his own. The Librarian's stare was unnaturally deep, his irises seemed to emit a faint blue light. The eyes seemed to look deep into Lemartes, reaching down to the depths of his soul and applying a small, but noticeable pressure on the Chaplain's mind. Had it not been for the Chaplain's own hardened mental state and Astartes physiology, he would have shuddered.

In a low voice the Chaplain begun to ask "Brother what is it that-"

But before he could finish, his vox opened up, "Chaplain Lemartes, do you read me? This is Sergeant Elros of the Second Company!"

Lemartes removed his hand from the Librarian's shoulder, his concentration broken. As the Librarian started to return to his trance, his psychic powers allowed him to pick up on the first part Lemartes's conversation with the Sergeant"

"Yes Sergeant I hear you clear and true. What are your needs, Brother?" responded the Chaplain.

Through the vox again "Chaplain, the Orks have us pinned down with heavy weapon entrenchments in front of the southern wing of the Ecclesorium building, we believe they're using it as their command bunker. We believe the Warboss is currently inside, though he is accompanied by his Nob bodyguard. We are in need of reinforcements, transmitting coordinates to you now. The western wing of the building is lightly defended, bring your..."

Calistarius heard no more, slipping back into his forcefully distracted state, wondering if there was blood to be spilled soon.

With simple nod to the serfs operating the drop pod bays, Lemartes strapped himself into one of the open seats in the black pod, his suit automatically transferring coordinates to the drop pod's targeting cogitator. The drop pod doors soon closed, showering Lemartes and the three warriors of the Death Company in a dim red light. As if on cue, Callistarius felt his lips curl involuntarily into a deranged smile, his suspicions confirmed.

He felt a slight jolt as the drop pod was launched from the _Europae_, and in the farthest reaches of his mind Calistarius could hear the Chaplain's Litanies of Fury. There would be battle soon, and that was all he could think about now.

* * *

><p>"Through the lightning and the tempest, deliver us from doubt and darkness. The Emperor protects!" Said the Chaplain, finishing his prayers with practiced timing, as the drop pod's decelerating thrusters activated, aiding the pod in making last second corrections to its course. Impact could only be seconds away. Calistarius gripped his large force axe tightly in his right hand.<p>

**BOOM!**

The drop pod come to an abrupt halt. The crash had sent chunks of rockcrete flying for several meters around the impact site, and created a large dust cloud. They had landed a few meters the western side of the Ecclesorium building, which turned out to be more like an ornately carved castle, surrounded by marble steps. The sudden explosive appearance of the drop pod had started the couple of Ork Boyz manning a looted assault cannon mounted on a nearby ledge.

"Ey, do you fink da boyz did dat?" Asked one of the Orks to the other.

"Grot if I know ya git, jus get dat shoota spinnin!" The other responded.

Calistarius heard barrels revving up as the blast doors of the drop pod began to open. Since the cloud of dust had not yet settled, the Orks couldn't decide whether to fire or not. Unfortunately for them, the marines inside the drop pod were quite aware of the situation. To them, anything was an enemy.

The two Orks standing on the steps felt the air around them become slightly ionized as their hairs stood on end. Confused, they looked at each other for a moment, seeking some explanation.

But it was a moment too long. As the blast doors opened around him, Calistarius automatically raised his free hand, eyes glowing an even brighter blue than before, almost burning with ethereal light. He focused his mind on the Ork position, harnessing the warp around him. For a split second all was silent, but the tranquility was soon followed by...

**CRRRRAACK!**

From behind the dust cloud, the Librarian had sent bolts of bright blue warp lightning hurtling at the Orks. As he was only a Lexicanium, these bolts alone could not do much more than slightly injure the xenos.

The makeshift grenades on their belts, however, were a different story. The greenskins exploded, showering the ground with pink meat and releasing a strong smell of burnt flesh and blood into the air. It was a terrifying sight to the group of Orks that had been attracted by landing of the drop pod, as they now stood frozen in their tracks. The dust cloud finally settled, allowing the stunned group to just barely make out what the cloud was masking.

Lemartes now held his Blood Crozius, and standing in front of Calistarius, he bellowed, "For the glory of the Imperium, CHARGE!"

Lemartes sprinted towards the group of dumbfounded Orks, the three other Astartes in tow. The Death Company smashed into the rag tag squad, the crazed warriors reveling in the bloodshed very soon to come. The Chaplain, screaming litanies of hate, shattered one Ork's axe, and smashed its skull open with one large swing of his Blood Crozius, the weapon now glowing in a deathly green field of energy.

To his left, Brother Tiberius dodged another axe aimed towards his head, and proceeded to eviscerate the Ork that had swung it with his chainsword, spraying blood across the once pristine white steps. Another Ork clumsily swung his axe at Tiberius's left arm, but with speed uncommon to even an Astartes, Tiberius swung his chainsword vertically removing the Ork's weapon arm from its body. Before finishing the literally disarmed greenskin, he shouted, "I SHALL BE YOUR DOOM TRAITOR!"

He no longer saw the greenskin horde or the large, white expanses of the Ecclesorium building, but traitor marines at the Battle of Terra. Such was the curse of the Blood Angels. But The Flaw also brought it's victims a small amount of the Primarch's power, allowing Tiberius to kill the Ork with a punch to the head, completely severing the beast's mind from its spinal cord.

Nearby, Brother Luther was smashing Orks with his Thunder Hammer, yelling similarly to Brother Tiberius, but the spectacle of the small Astartes force was Calistarius. Four greenskins surrounded him, trying to simultaneously attack him at once to overwhelm him. Their crude strategy stood no chance against a veteran warrior, especially in his current eccentric state. The four attackers pounced at him, but he was already one step in front of them. As soon as the greenskins were in range of his weapon, Calistarius swung, spinning 360 degrees and splitting the Orks' bodies at the stomach. Due to sheer momentum, one of the Ork torso's managed to collide with Calistarius's shoulder, its choppa harmlessly bouncing off Librarian's Power Armor. He quickly threw the dead xenos off of himself, but not before covering his open hand in the thick red blood pouring from the wound he had inflicted. Lifting his hand to wipe the Ork's sweat from his eyes, one smell overpowered his senses.

Blood. It was so close now. He felt the thirst tug at him even harder now. His throat felt so dry, but it was no water that he craved. He could no longer resist. His hand slowly creeped towards his mouth, he opened his jaws wide and-

Calistarius felt the ground leave from under him, the blood was getting further and further away. Within a second, he crashed back onto the ground, his axe laying a few feet away. A hulking 10 foot greenskin had charged into him, knocking him his feet. It must have been the leader of this Ork squad, a "Nob" as the greenskins called them. The beast was now standing above him, its Power Klaw raised to strike the Librarian's face. Before the blow was brought down, Calistarius looked into the eyes of his assailant, and suddenly, the Nob was frozen. Calistarius's eyes shone bright blue again, but this time appeared bottomless, his eyes still clearly visible. His intense gaze totally disrupted the Ork's weak psyche, its small mind now being torn apart as the Librarians wild psychic mind wreaked havoc. For what seemed like an eternity, the Ork did not move, unable to avert its eyes. Then, in a flash of white light, its head disappeared. A few meters away, Lemartes's plasma pistol smoked satisfyingly.

As his Brothers finished off the rest of the Ork squad Calistarius quickly rose to his feet again, snatching his axe off the ground. The pounding in his head grew stronger, he was denied his prize and was now furious. His Brothers now with no more Orks to fight simply saw each other, and, with weapons raised, charged, perceiving the other as a 10000 year old traitor. Calistarius now pushed even further towards insanity, saw nothing but sources of blood, and could not help but join the fray.

Luckily, before any of them hurt each other, the Chaplain's voice clearly rang out, calming the men just enough to end the feud, "Death Company, our Brothers of Squad Elros are in need of assistance! We must go to their aid and destroy the beasts that try to stay them! For the Emperor!"

* * *

><p>Upon finally reaching the southern wing, the true nature of the Ecclesorium building was apparent to the Chaplain. Before WAAAGH! Ghazkull had arrived on the planet, this building was a massive, beautiful Cathedral, dedicated to the Imperial Cult. It was an ancient building, some of its statues and carved created not long after the Horus Heresy. Its white walls were engraved with hundreds of paragraphs of holy scripture, a sight meant to inspire its followers from the bottom of the walkway that led to its large wooden doors. The long approach to the building was now guarded by Ork gun turrets and looted weapons. The statues of the Emperor and Imperial Saints that had once stood vigil over the building had been dismembered and destroyed, now being used as cover and makeshift shelters for its Ork defenders.<p>

The Chaplain's blood boiled as he took in magnitude of the Ork's attrocities, "Xenos filth! I shall purge you from this place! This desecration shall be your undoing!"

Lifting his Blood Crozius high in the air, he signaled the Death Company marines to engage. Squad Elros, now seeing one of their Chapter's greatest heroes leading their fallen brother's charge into battle, rallied. Rising from their covered positions, the sergeant and his marines provided suppressive fire for the men the Chaplain led and destroyed any especially dangerous enemy weapons with their lascannon.

The Ork's turned their weapons onto their new found adversaries and opened fire, but most shots were absorbed by the Chaplain's rosarius, which proved to be increasingly valuable. Brother Luther was struck by an autocannon round in the chest plate, and was thrown back by the force of the shot. While an impact like this may have knocked a normal Space Marine briefly unconscious, the Primarch's power flowed through Luther's veins, and he would not be defeated so easily.

Brother Luther quickly returned to his feet, despite his probably cracked rib cage, and screamed, "DAMNABLE DAEMONS, I SHALL NOT LET YOU PASS THE ETERNITY GATE!" He vaulted over a nearby pillar the Orks were using as cover and brought his mighty thunder hammer down upon the autocannon and the Ork operating the weapon, disabling both in one swing. He quickly moved on to a nearby emplacement, preparing to destroy it with a krak grenade.

The other three marines, led by Lemartes, continued their charge. Calistarius split off from the group, engaging a Nob with a large gun in its oversized hands. The beast began to fire, but the Librarian's psychic abilities allowed him to move out of the way before the shots were even fired. Calistarius closed the distance, his eyes again burning blue, and brought his axe down to his waist, like a lance. The greenskin swung its heavy shoota like a crude club, but missed, leaving itself open for the Librarian's counterattack. Calistarius thrust the tips of his weapon into the Ork's gut and ripped upward, tearing open flesh. Due to the axe's nature as a force weapon, the Ork fell over dead, its weak soul obliterated by the Librarian's psychic might, channeled through the weapon itself.

As he removed the blade from the now dead Ork's chest, a squirt of deep red blood arced through the air and landed on Calistarius's exposed face. He felt the warm, freshly spilled blood ooze down his face, reaching his quivering lip. He slowly reached out with his tongue, and tasted his prize. He was overcome by a strange Euphoria, like the taste in his mouth was the most spectacular one he had ever experienced. For a moment he felt at peace, like his desires were satiated.

This feeling would not last long.

The all too familiar feeling of blood lust suddenly engulfed the Librarian and the euphoria vanished. His hearts raced at dangerous speeds, even for an Astartes. The hot, salty taste in his mouth was overcoming all the remaining restraint the Librarian could offer as The Flaw manifested itself fully. He needed more, more fresh blood. His mind was being flooded by impulses to rend anything living limb from limb, and his memories faded as if they were someone else's. Suddenly enraged by the lack of blood, a new, deep fury bloomed within what was left of the crazed Librarian's mind.

The Red Thirst finally overcame Lexicanium Calistarius.

* * *

><p>Some time later, a group of Nobs, now alerted to the havoc being wreaked outside their bunker, scrambled towards the exits of the building to engage their attackers. The approach to the building now free of all heavy weaponry, Squad Elros began to advance towards the doors, laying down covering fire for an Assault Squad that was now crashing down on the remaining defenders. Elros called to Lemartes "Brother Chaplain, more Orks are moving from the inside of the building. They will soon be in position to flank our Assault Squad!"<p>

Chaplain Lemartes, not wanting to risk any sane Blood Angel lives, ordered the Death Company into Ecclesorium building, to intercept the Nobs soon to join the fray, while he dueled a Kommando Nob. The Chaplain bellowed his last prayers for the marines clad in black, this would be the end of their battle.

Calistarius saw two black figures rush through large doors into a group of greenskinned beasts, though he did not recognize either of them anymore. It was the large green beasts hulking towards the doors that caught his eye, he knew they would provide much fresh blood. In seconds, the Librarian entered the building after them, but soon felt small caliber rounds embedding within his skin. He looked down and saw that his armor had been cleaved, leaving a gap for the bullets to enter his body. He hadn't even noticed that he was hit previously. He did not even remember killing the attacker that had broken his armor. Only further enraged by this, the Librarian switched his axe to a one-handed grip and summoned more warp lightning onto his aggressor, stunning the beast. Upon reaching the Ork firing at him, he let out a crazed battle cry and swung his axe in a small arc, decapitating the beast and showering himself with blood.

As he fought through a few more Nobs, Calistarius noticed the doorway he had used to enter the building was now gone. It had collapsed due to a stray rocket. All of the inhabitants of the Ecclesorium building were now confined within its large walls.

Calistarius fought on and on, the wounds he sustained not slowing him down at all. The fury inside him was now outwardly obvious as he was constantly screaming blood-curling battle cries and hacking apart anything in front of him. He lost all awareness as the time passed, no longer seeing enemy or ally, living from dead, or even real from not real. His attacks were no longer planned and precise, but wild and ferocious, defeating his opponents by the use of insurmountable force. It continued this way for several hours, the sun Armageddon revolved around had long ago crossed the western horizon. His mind spun in confusion and rage now, fighting simply because it was all he know to do at this point.

As his fists and blade broke through flesh and stone alike, he found himself engaged with what he thought was a particularly large enemy, the Ork Warboss. They matched each other blow for blow. The beast would swing its large claw, and Calistarius would parry with his axe, pushing his psychic powers to their maximums. He fought valiantly, but his opponent had just began fighting, unlike the Librarian. His guard down for a moment, the opponent picked up Calistarius and flung him across the large atrium they now fought in. He no longer felt pain even as he crashed through several sections of a colonnade. He leapt to his feet and threw his force axe at the large beast, its surface crackling with otherworldly energies as it flew end over end towards its target. The hulking beast dodged at the last second, but the axe continued to fly...

Straight into one of the last columns holding up the building.

The cut Like a series of icicles, the Ecclesorium building began to fall apart. With the ground no longer holding the weight of the freshly cleaved pillar, chunks of rock began to fall off of the unsupported beam, raining enormous boulders on the few beings left alive inside of the building. When the pillar had finished collapsing, the entire structure began to rumble. Large cracks began to form in the ceiling, spreading closer and closer to the walls. The large beast ran towards where the exit used to be, in a feeble attempt to escape.

Thinking his opponent was attempting to run from him, the Librarian furiously chased after the Warboss, screaming, "FOOLISH BEAST, I SHALL DESTROY YOUR MIND AND BURN YOUR BODY! YOUR BLOOD SHALL BE MINE!"

Calistarius closed the distance, now within a few meters of his target. The Ork had its back to its attacked, frantically threw rubble out of the way, trying to escape the inevitable collapse of the building. Calistarius lunged at the beast, his hands ready to rip its spine from its back. He sailed through the air, his fingers creeping closer and closer to the bulges on the back of the beast's hunched neck.

In those last moments, his fingers would find nothing but air. A falling block of ferrocrete collided with the soaring Librarian, pinning him to the ground. His armor's machine spirit wailed as it struggled to keep the ceramite shell from failing, the large impact being was too much for his battered power armor to bear. Calistarius roared in frustration, denied the blood of his final enemy. Before he could remove the block from his body, the rest of the building rained down around and upon him. He would not get more blood, he would die in this place, longing for the sanguine fluid.

With several more impacts of heavy stone, the armor of Lexicanium Calistarius began to fail. No longer supported by an essential system of his armor, his body's own strength wavered, his furious mind slowly faded into into black.

* * *

><p>Calistarius lay trapped under heavy slabs of stone. For now, he was conscious, but far from calm. The last strength he had left in his body was used to scream out of rage and insanity. The machine spirit of his power armor died long ago, and he was bleeding from the large amount of wounds he had sustained. He was aware of none of this, however. The ache for blood still burned inside him, but for some reason he could not move. As it had been doing now, darkness came for him, and he felt his mind slipping away again, becoming angrier and fainter, but there was something different.<p>

This darkness felt especially cold, and otherworldly. This one must have been death finally coming for him. He attempted to roar in frustration, but his vocal chords were too weary. He felt as if he was now falling, falling into the depths of his own dissolution. But he and death were not alone, someone, or something was there with them.

Suddenly, he started to see again, but not out of his own eyes. He saw a huge figure dressed in black Terminator Armor. A large, red cats-eye shape with a black pupil adorned the chest of this figure. He was getting closer to Calistarius, or rather, Calistarius was approaching him. In a flash he found himself laying on the ground, his body mangled and ruined. He looked up and saw the black figure looking down upon him. The face glowed a foul red, and was covered in horrible scars in the shape of an eight pointed star.

The man in the black armor looked down at him, and with a voice that sounded as horrible as the Dark Gods themselves said, "You could have been great, brother. We could have ruled the galaxy together. But you were too much of a fool to see how He was using us, lying to us! And so you shall die here, Sanguinius, die a pawn serving blindly under a cause you did not even understand. I shall rule this galaxy alone, mankind will bow before me!"

The vision ended briefly, but Calistarius could not help but feel rage and despair simultaneously. He was breathing weakly, but rapidly. He felt the same wounds that he did in the vision, but in his mind rather than his body. In an explosion of red light, the visions returned, this time seeing through the same eyes, but fighting the black armored demigod. He was clearly outmatched by the red faced warrior. Calistarius's body began to convulse as the visions became longer and more intense. His mind was dominated by these sights of battles from over 10,000 years ago. His mind broke under all of the pressure it had now endured, and his once lone rage was now accompanied by despair. What was left of the Librarian's soul was being forced apart, what lay under the rubble of the Ecclesorium building was just the broken body of an Astartes called Calistarius. The second curse of the Blood Angels was brought upon the dying man. Now the Black Rage was taking him as he died, exhausting the very last sums of life force his body could produce.

The visions continued, and his body failed more and more. His own blood ran from his eyes and throat, his biology unable to hold itself together any more. He would die soon, with visions of the a terrible death plaguing his mind and soul. Not even a Space Marine was meant for things as excruciating as this.

* * *

><p>After enduring a few more different visions, the first one returned to him, though due to his horribly deteriorated state, it was hazy and nonsensical. He again saw the scarred red face above him, taunting him. The vision was cut short this time, the Librarian returned to reality for a brief moment. Above his face he saw something long and white slowly drifting down. He could not make out what it was at first, as his Occulobe was now damaged. After a moment, he mustered up his will and focused upon it. Looking upon the strange object, he determined it was a beautiful white feather, though where it had come from was a mystery.<p>

He suddenly returned to the vision, and the black Terminator completed his speech. The Librarian saw a golden armored gauntlet rise up, it appeared to belong to the person who's memory he was currently experiencing. In the gauntlet lay a long white feather, the same as the one the dying Astartes had seen with his own eyes. He then heard the voice of the being on the ground, it rang out in a voice that sounded familiar to the Librarian. The voice sounded like one he knew ever since he had become a Blood Angel. It weakly, but with certainty, "No, Horus Lupercal. It shall not be that way. Even if it requires death by my beloved brother here, this madness will stop here".

The feather slipped from the golden armored hand, slowly drifting towards the face looking up from the ground, the face of Sanguinius. As the feathers finally landed on the faces of the Librarian and his Primarch, huge amounts of energy began to gather around the golden gauntlet.

The Warmaster Horus gazed down upon his defeated brother quizically, asking "Fool, you and I both know all of your psychic might is nothing compared to the power I now command. You cannot stop me, so why do you continue to fight?"

The Great Angel simply smiled. He looked into the eyes of his corrupted brother, and opened his palm, the golden light of his psychic energy outshining everything visible to the Librarian, in both the vision and reality.

And so, in his final sacrifice, Sanguinius had saved both worlds.

* * *

><p><em>Authors notes:<em>

_Wow, that's a long one!_

_So i tried to write this chapter a bit differently than the last one, actual things happening in this one._

_Its not awesome, but better than the last chapter IMO, but im still learning how to write this as I go along._

_It also starts off slow, and the action scenes arent great, but the ending scene was pretty good IMO._

But seriously, any reviews would be a TON of help, and I'd really appreciate them!


End file.
